


to leave a hyacinth at your doorstep.

by lumieres (irlsugawara)



Series: and with this, we shall seek refuge. [2]
Category: OMORI (Video Game)
Genre: anxiety tw, basil-centril, minor sunkel/suntan, post true ending spoilers, unrequited sunflower but it's not the focus of the oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29072898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irlsugawara/pseuds/lumieres
Summary: he closes his eyes and clasps his hands together at his chest, as if to whisper a prayer to himself and to the flower and to the memories of this house. as if to leave them all behind in the dirt, six feet underground. as if to bury it all and leave a hyacinth at the doorstep.
Series: and with this, we shall seek refuge. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2133000
Kudos: 60





	to leave a hyacinth at your doorstep.

**Author's Note:**

> here it is!! finally!!! the basil-centric oneshot i've been working on for like weeks now, omg... idk why but this was so hard to finish and push through? maybe because basil's story and his feelings are something i really took into account and something that made me really really really sad ;;; 
> 
> i definitely think basil had the hardest time getting through the aftermath of the confession like he was......... the perpetrator of the entire situation? he _did_ everything, ykwim? so it definitely was harder on him, imo :( so i def think it took him longer to heal and move on and even tho his SOMETHING did, indeed, leave, i dont think his anxiety and his trauma left as easily so i tried to make it as realistic as possible ; -; i hope yall enjoy!! as always, thank u guys for giving this a shot and for liking it!
> 
> also did yall catch the meanings of the flowers throughout? teehee.

pale fingers play with stems of flowers he knows the names to: gladiolus, daisy, aster, amaryllis flower, and lilies. he stares blankly, for a minute or two, at the flowers splayed out on his lap before inhaling deeply and mustering out the strength to put them into a clean vase beside his hospital bed. with a quiet and strained grunt, the boy shifts so that his weight is rather against the pillow, against the headboard of the bed, so that he can easily slide the stems into the water. basil watches as those flowers seem to glow under the pale sunlight and the caress of water to their thirsty stems. it makes him smile, despite not having been able to smile for a week now. 

delicately, his hands fold in his lap and he stares out the window. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


a week prior, sunny had been telling the truth of mari’s death with everyone else in the room and basil had been listening to every single word with a creeping pinch of anxiety. as light as he did feel, he couldn’t shake off the feeling that they would hate him even more; that, now, they would push him away and never look in his direction any longer; that they would stare at him with pure disgust in their eyes. unknowingly, he had curled his fingers into his palms, knuckles turning white, as his body trembled with fear and anxiety. he couldn’t lose more friends and he was already losing sunny to a new city, to a new life, to a brighter outlook on life. basil couldn’t help the way his eyes had fluttered open to when sunny had been bent over his knees, sobbing into the heels of his palms. 

basil had wanted to rip off his covers, off the tubes that stuck to him like chains, so that he could run to his friend and comfort him but kel had been there before him. then aubrey, then hero. pairs of arms circled around the younger boy’s form and together, they had been crying in the center of basil’s hospital room. he had been prone to being extremely emotional and easily the most empathetic person in their friend group, so it hadn’t taken too long for basil to allow hot tears to streak down his slightly bruised visage. 

he couldn’t do much but clutch at the sheets tightly, watching sunny with a certain sense of pride that swelled within his frail chest, pressing against his weakly beating heart that ached to see sunny reach for the stars again. when eyes that had found their light again met with his own, basil had startled a little, the grip on his sheets loosening before he smiled with a slow tilt of his head. 

reassurance seeped into his body when sunny sniffled and had smiled so wide that the sun began to spill into his room and brighten every dull object. in the back, the black shadows disintegrated into nothingness and they were left with the two of them, plus their friends standing beside them, hands interlocked with one another.

  
  
  


after sunny had been discharged, the three of them had come back to basil’s room just a few more times throughout the week— “just to check up on you,” they had said, sitting beside his bed with concern and worry shining in their hues. aubrey only visited once before she had stopped visiting altogether, which basil couldn’t blame her for. she had been closest to mari and he… 

a squeeze to the stem and basil had swallowed thickly to ground himself. “you don’t have to come to visit me much,” he had said, his voice distant and floaty. “i don’t… i don’t think i’ll be out of here soon. don’t worry, okay?” even so, basil had managed a smile, not quite reaching his eyes, but he could tell the brothers hadn’t noticed. hero’s brows pinched and kel had looked to the side; basil almost had half the mind to think that they were merely doing this out of obligation to their friendship or, even worse, to sunny. he didn’t like the feeling of them forcing themselves to come to see him just because he had been admitted into the hospital for even longer for “safety” purposes. 

basil had sighed, catching their attention, but he couldn’t bring his gaze to meet theirs. “please,” he whispered, head turning to stare out the window so that his sandy blond locks could hide the way pain seemed to make itself known on his features. he hadn’t looked over at them to gauge their reactions and he knew, at the time, that his actions were detrimental to their friendship, again, but he couldn’t have helped it. he did what he knew how to do: he only pushed them away so they didn’t have to be burdened by his emotions, by his recovery. 

as he continued to watch the sun spill past the greying clouds, he distantly heard the scrape of chairs, the hushed whispers, and then a soft “goodbye” before the door had swung shut. it left basil with a cold chill, his knees coming up to press against his chest as he had buried his face in between them, curling up as much as he could have. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


a few months before the year had ended, he had been allowed to go home with polly and his parents, who had made an immediate change of plans to come back for their only son. the doctors had told his parents that he should still be resting as much as he possibly can (and privately advised for basil to see someone for his mental health). that’s how basil finds himself back in his two-story house, two years later, with his parents shuffling around downstairs, making gentle conversation about what to make for lunch and whether or not they should take basil to a flower shop not too far from where they live. his fingers brush over the railing of the stairs, his feet halting as he listens carefully, his blond hair sticking up from where he had pressed his head into his pillow during his sleep. 

a few fingers, white taped around the tips, come up to tuck a few long blond locks behind his ear and he shuffles down the stairs completely so he can make his appearance to his parents, who find him and smile brightly. basil feels his body freeze up a little, breath caught in his throat.

polly had left their house once basil’s parents promised to stay for a little longer for their son until they were positive that he would be okay on his own again. she had been nice to him so basil had given her a bunch of neatly trimmed roses with a shy smile. he could see the tears gather in her eyes as she had bent down to give him a tight hug and a pat on the head before leaving. now, it is simply a family again. something that basil had always yearned for whenever he hung out with sunny and the others. 

although the teenager had two years to get over his heavy waves of emotions, he still couldn’t help the grateful tears that always manage to spring forth whenever he sees his parents in the sunlit kitchen. “basil,” his mother calls out to him, pulling him out of his thoughts with a laugh. she cards her fingers through his mussed hair, smoothing it down with a huff. “you look like you slept for a year. how are you?”

he still isn’t used to this. he’s used to empty silence, to his grandma calling out to him and asking him to talk about different flowers, to polly knocking on his door and asking if he’s okay. he blinks, then moves away from her hand with an embarrassed flush coating his cheeks, along with a smile. “i slept really well, i guess,” he murmurs, in response, unable to duck at his father’s hand coming up to completely mess up his hair. “i’m…” 

_ how… is he? _

he doesn’t know how to answer that. it’s been a constant question for two years and he never knows how to answer it.

“i’m okay,” basil opts for instead, the corners of his smile stretching a little more. “i think i’ll head to the park today.” despite being absent from his life for quite some time, basil’s parents know him like the back of their hand; they know that basil “going to the park today” is a method he uses to run away from the issue at hand, whatever said issue may be. basil knows this as well, knows that his parents have picked up on his habits, but it’s not as if he cares much. at least, he doesn’t care as much as he would have, a couple years back. 

some would say that he has grown, as they watch him stride into the kitchen and pluck an apple from the fruit basket only to take it to the sink and wash it clean of any dirt that might be clinging to the redness of the fruit. some would say he’s changed, as they watch him take a bite out of the apple, slide on his dirtied white sneakers (tiny yellow flowers tucking under his laces loosely), then step out the door where fresh air awaits him. some would worry for him and they’d wonder if it’s remotely possible for a child who’s  _ that  _ traumatized to recover so quickly. 

basil would only smile, though the sentiment would never reach his eyes. 

truth is, he’s not fine at all nor is he fully recovered. he still twitches, he still gets the creeps, he still feels like something is lingering outside his window but it’s not as severe as it had been two years ago; no, it’s past that. his SOMETHING disappeared along with sunny’s but the  _ feeling _ … oh, no,  _ that  _ never went away at all. basil takes another bite of his apple, jaw working quickly now as his sneaker-clad feet walk faster and faster, away from his house, away from the street to his left, then the second one he passes. he walks to where the park is and even that feels so far from him. 

what greets him is the greenery of the familiar sight; the trees and the swingset and the tetherball pole. the stands are empty today (it is a sunday, after all) but there are children running around, with their parents conversing to the side. basil feels that sudden feeling of ants crawling up his chest and back overcome him, his fingers digging into the skin of the apple enough so that the juice begins to spill past where his nails puncture the fruit. distantly, he knows he’s losing control so he forces himself to inhale and hold it for three seconds, then exhales slowly. basil does this two more times before he takes another shaky bite of the ruined apple and tosses it into a nearby trash can. what he’s come here for isn’t to take in the sight, no, it’s to head to their now-abandoned hideout. the teen takes a step past the gates and refuses to make eye contact with the parents and their rowdy kids so he can make an easy beeline for the lake behind the thick copse of trees. 

under the protection of the shade, basil lets out a breath he did not even realize he had been holding in. even now, he feels as if people would stab him with his stares, as if they knew every bad thing he had done in his life, as if they  _ knew  _ that mari had died because of him (only him. how could  _ sunny  _ ever do such a thing?). his teeth catch at his lower lip, nibbling at it before he shakes his head and breathes again.  _ it’s just a feeling. that’s all it is. they can’t- how could they know? it’s been two years anyway. they don’t know. _

which is true. they don’t know. nobody but their broken-at-the-seams group knows of the actual circumstances. it had been written that she had hung herself and everybody who knew her mourned but the truth of it is that…

“basil?” shocking blue eyes snap up, past the branches that conceal his sight, to where kel bends, a hand over his eyes to squint at the approaching shadow behind the trees. “basil, it  _ is  _ you! oh, thank god, man. we got worried for a sec there.” 

_ we?  _ and belatedly, he realized that  _ of course _ , kel couldn’t have come here without sunny. the teen in question turns to look at basil over the gentle curvature of his shoulder and smiles at him, the white of his eyepatch stark against the healthy glow of his skin. sometimes basil finds himself envying sunny, envies the way it seems sunny healed faster than basil even though mari had been his own sister. basil hadn’t even been  _ related  _ to mari. 

but he shakes every bitter thought out of his mind, out of his heart, and he smiles back, unable to help the slight glow of pink casting over his cheeks. “hey, you two…” he waves meekly before wringing his hands together, behind his back. the dirt presses against the sides of his sneakers as he shuffles his way to where kel and sunny sit, a little ways off from the lake, where the flowers by the statue had been recently replaced (by kel, no doubt). “what are you doing here?” 

kel answers first because, of course he does, but even as basil sits himself down a little away from the pair, he cannot keep his eyes off sunny, who only gazes at kel. envy coils like a green vine, thick with thorns and poison. “you know sunny’s here for a week before he has to go back, so i thought i’d bring him back here just for the memories. i asked your parents if you could come but they said you were sleeping! sorry, dude, i  _ really  _ didn’t think you were awake… i’d have asked you to come,” he smiles apologetically, genuinity gleaming in those hazelnut eyes of his. basil’s eyes flick from sunny to kel and every drop of envy dissolves at the sight of kel’s kind smile. 

“no, that’s- that’s okay! i didn’t know you came by…” basil smiles, brows tilting upwards as his gaze floats to the grass they’re sitting on to the statue; he looks anywhere sunny is not. he knows that if he does look at sunny, his heart will scrawl itself onto his features, onto his sleeve, or even worse, it’ll pop out of his chest and land into sunny’s own hands. regardless, he doesn’t ask about aubrey and knows it isn’t his place to but kel mentions her anyway— mentions that she’s busy with being tutored on college-level work. basil only nods. 

they sit in comfortable silence for a bit, kel yammering away about this and that as sunny chips in a few times. basil sits with his knees to his chest, enjoying the easy conversation between the three of them. he fiddles with the yellow flowers under his laces until kel grabs his hand gently. “hey,” he squeezes, not for the first time since the hospital. basil looks up again and his cheeks heat because of the neverending attention the two are giving him. did he… had he been crying? did he look odd? was he visibly zoning out? “is everything okay, basil?”

“huh?” the teen blinks, belatedly realizing that there are streaks of wetness rolling down his cheeks, and he gasps suddenly as his free hand comes up to wipe at his cheek, quickly, roughly. “oh, um, this? i— y-yeah, i’m fine! i— it happens, sometimes. a-allergies, i think.” a lie. it slips out easy between pearly whites. yet, he knows that they know he’s lying just from the way their features scrunch up in disbelief, from the way sunny’s eye hardens as he pins him with a stare so steel-like. basil’s breath gets stuck in his throat and he springs to his feet, that familiar feeling of ants crawling up his body returning. they were staring at him and he didn’t like it. he didn’t like it because it feels like they’re reading right through him and can see through his many layers of protection. 

kel opens his mouth to object but sunny presses a palm to his boyfriend’s arm, allowing kel to release his grip on basil’s hand. the blond watches as his best friend stands too now, silent as ever. “basil,” he murmurs, and it’s funny how a single word made up of two syllables is enough to catch his entire attention (funny how he still loves him years after, even though sunny is not his to take). “do you want to go back home?” 

and it’s such a simple question that could possibly have a single meaning to it but to basil, it sounds like sunny’s asking him to  _ come back home _ . to relax and to go back to how things were before everything went wayward. to let go of every little fear that keeps clinging to his back like leeches after a naked swim in a congested lake. to basil, it sounds as if sunny’s extending a hand to take him back to when things were only bright and full of rainbow-esque lights. 

a part of basil refuses vehemently. a part of basil says:  _ how is it even possible to go back to normal with these people? you have blood on your hands, and it isn’t even  _ yours _. you think they’ll  _ accept  _ you? maybe they just said those things to reassure you but do you think they  _ really  _ meant it? _

but a stronger part of basil, his higher self, accepts that hand. he had stomped out his darkness the day sunny had confessed in the hospital, he had accepted that aubrey would see him differently now and that, maybe, hero would have difficulty smiling at him again but basil wants this more than anyone else does in the world. more than kel, more than sunny, more than aubrey, more than hero. 

if it takes two more years, then so be it. basil wants to go back home. 

“yeah,” he whispers, voice thick with emotion that spills past his eyes and wets his cheeks. “yeah, i do.” basil doesn’t even realize it when he feels two pairs of arms circling around his body, holding him close and brushing that feeling of ants crawling over his body away. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


a few days later, basil comes back into his room after having spent the morning in the living room, flipping through pages upon pages of memories and scrapbooking his recent discoveries with his plants. his eyes immediately catch a violet shade glistening in the sunlight, dewdrops hanging from the edges. it pulls a delighted gasp from the blond as he rushes to it and holds the pot up to his face, a smile splitting his face in two. the expression on his visage can even rival the sun’s brightness; pure, unadulterated happiness so infectious that even as he walks past his parents and his neighbors, they couldn’t help the smiles that spread on their faces as well. 

it doesn’t take him long but he reaches sunny’s old house in time, before the sun falls behind the mountains and the moon makes its presence known amongst the stars. blue eyes flicker to kel’s place, briefly. basil wonders if sunny can see him from the window, and if he can, he wonders if he thinks about basil. selfish, it is, but he can’t help the thought.

basil stops just a few steps away from the front door, the sight of it menacing in its own way. he’s past the darkness, he knows, and he’s past the feeling of creeping fear but all this sight leaves him with is empty grief. if things could be different, only he knows how badly he would do anything to change it. 

inhale, hold for three seconds, exhale. he takes step after step until he’s at the front door, then places the pot at the front door. then, the teen closes his eyes and clasps his hands together at his chest, as if to whisper a prayer to himself and to the flower and to the memories of this house. as if to leave them all behind in the dirt, six feet underground. as if to bury it all and leave a  _ hyacinth  _ at the doorstep. 

basil smiles lightly, his chest feeling like sunlight pouring itself into his heart, and turns to walk back home. 


End file.
